My story
by HOPS
Summary: Ever wonder where they got all the actors for newsies? R/R rated for stuff that may or may not happen.
1. Prologue

Have you ever wondered why the Newsies in the movie looked so natural at what they were doing? How they fit into all of the scenes too perfectly to be scripted? How some took to their job more convincingly than others? The answer is quite simple really. They were real newsies.  
  
Now, you're wondering how I'd know this, right? Of course you are. Why wouldn't you? Well, that would be another very simple answer. I was there. I was 'acting' along with the rest of them. Granted, some of us were really just actors. Do you really think they could have pulled it off, bringing some 5000 of us away from our time period?  
  
I don't understand why they made the movie the way they did. Or how they got my buds and me there. All I know is they did, and that's all there is to it. I'll never know if they completely screwed with the timeline or not by doing what they did. None of us will.  
  
We'll never see our families again. Yes, that's right, some of us still had families. Families that we were torn away from. Why? So all you stupid fans could have your little movie. One glitch in their plan. They hadn't figured out how to put us back where we came from.  
  
Here's my story. The irony of it all? In the end, they cut my part out completely.  
  
___________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~____________________  
  
This is the prologue, obviously. I don't know if I should continue. Should I? Well, please review. If I get any of those, then I'll be forced to go on with what I've started. I lack the ability to say 'no' to fans. 


	2. The strt of my last few days

My real name was Beth. Beth Lorain to be exact. I forgot my last name a long time ago, I mean, who really cared? They wanted to call me Skittles in the movie. This just made me wonder 'What the hell's a skittle?' Well, before I cover all that stuff, maybe I should go over how I got here, to 2003. Well, when I got now it was 1990, but that's beside the point. Let's begin.  
  
________________________The Past_________________________  
  
"Beth!" my best friend was calling, apparently none too happy about my leaving the house earlier than usual. He was catching up to me at the distribution center. His name was Michel, we didn't really use all those 'newsie' names at the time. That was something added on by those idiot producers.  
  
"What?" I asked him, turning away from the window, toting my papes under my arm. Crap headlines that day. I remember that well. I only had twenty papers.  
  
"You left me!" he yelled, continuing up the ramp to where I was still standing. "I don't like having to walk here by myself."  
  
"Well, if you have such a social anxiety, maybe you should find somebody else to walk with you." It was something I had pointed out, time and again, but he simply wouldn't get it.  
  
"Well, as soon as somebody else starts sleeping at our house, maybe I'll start walking to work with them." Yeah, we live together. He's my step brother, but some would swear we were twins. We share the same creepy marble-gray eyes with the irises barely rimmed with black. We have the exact same shade of what-was-once-brown-hair but has now turned to dirty- blonde from the sun.  
  
Hell, we're the same height to the inch. I've got half my friends convinced that we were really twins separated at birth only to be brought back together at the age of twelve as stepsiblings. That was three years ago, and no we're like this*crosses fingers to demonstrate closeness* inseparable. 'Scept in the mornings.  
  
"Well, it's not my fault you refuse to make friends outside of the family." He tends to follow my friends and I around during the hours we're not at work. We sell together, though. I'm not sure what he did without me.  
  
"Then it's not my fault that I'm not exactly the social butterfly, now is it?" And he has a point. It's rather shocking that he doesn't have any other friends. He can be funny as hell at times. "Twenty papes," he said through the bars, and a stack was handed to him by a boy in a bowler.  
  
"You sure we can sell this much today?" I question as we walk out the gate, somewhat ahead of the crowd. "I mean, the headlines ain't exactly hot."  
  
"We can handle, Bethy." I hate it when he calls me that. "We can handle anything together."  
  
That's right. We could handle anything together. The key word being 'together'. I really wonder how he handled my disappearance.  
  
___________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~____________________  
  
The vote is unanimous, the story will continue. It's late and I just spent the last two hours watching Newsies and having my hair braided in a zillion teeny braids at my friends house. So, I'm gonna do shout-outs and then shut up.  
  
Imaginelet- I'm really hoping you've realized by this point that the 'guy' is a girl. I don't know if you know, but originally there was supposed to be a girl newsie, but something happened and there wasn't.  
  
Kate Lawrence- I like to know if my stories are liked before I go on and write a bunch. I'd rather not waste my time posting, but just force my close newsie-obsessing friends to read them. Please, please don't hurt me, I promise to continue with this.  
  
Little Bit- Original you say? I hadn't thought about that. I am happy that you like it and that I won't be needing to force you to read what you take to be mindless drible, but forcing you to read something you like. This makes me happy.  
  
Race da hottie- HA! You weren't first. You weren't first. I laugh at you. Would you know that this is the result of writer's block by BOTH of my other stories? Eh, could be interesting to see where this goes.  
  
Seraph- You like it, you really like it! This makes me happy. Does that mean that I should change the summary?  
  
(P.S. I am the type of writer that let's the story take me where the story wants to go. Not even I know what will happen. I stopped planning for these things as soon as I realized all premeditated stuff goes straight to hell) 


	3. No title

He was gone from my life soon after that day. I didn't know it at the time, but in just a week my life would change so drastically. I never told him I loved him. It was just commonly known that we 'loved' each-other because we lived together, but neither of us said it. I loved him like he was really my brother.  
  
___________________The Past____________________  
  
"Are you really sure that we can take it?" I asked again, just to verify that he thought we could.  
  
"Yeah, why wouldn't we be able to?" he asked in reply. We didn't use those cheesy accents like they do in the movie. Some of us did, I'll give them that, but not all of them. Not even all the orphans.  
  
"I dunno, just a thought." This was after the strike, so it didn't matter if we sold them all. They didn't put the prices back down, they just made it so we could sell back all of the papers that didn't get sold. Another stupid screw up of the producers. They did a bunch of that.  
  
"Ok, I guess you could worry about that."  
  
I screamed the headlines at the top of my lungs. Crap ones, it took me the first hour to sell just the first three. That sucked.  
  
4 hours, and that was just the morning addition. The afternoon was worse. It was this day that I noticed stuff starting to go bad.  
  
There were a few selling spots, that were never left un-occupied, that were empty. That's the first un-usual thing that I'd noticed in my last seven days. I hadn't known any of the first who disappeared, so I didn't really notice any specific absents.  
  
It was late when we got to Tibby's, so I thought nothing of the fact that very few people had gathered there. It was late, there shouldn't be too many, right?  
  
We got our food and sat down to eat it. Cost us near all of our earnings of the day, and that wasn't much.  
  
"See, told you we could handle it," Michel said to me after a few bite of what he'd ordered.  
  
___________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~____________________  
  
I'm gonna leave you with that for now. Shout outs.  
  
Imaginelet- See, updating. Yes, if you hadn't realized she was a girl, I'd worry.  
  
Little Bit- Yes, everything does, tell me no different.  
  
Race da hottie- Short, yeah yeah, I noticed.  
  
Seraph- I'll change the classification. 


	4. Chapter 4

Tibby's was only one of the nearly empty diners that night. We didn't know it yet, but all over the city people were 'disappearing' into thin air. Well, more of dragged into a dead-end alley never to come out again. At least not for many years.  
  
___________________The Past____________________  
  
"Hey, did you see Charley at all today?" Michael asked absent-mindedly. Charley is-well, was-my closest friend. I never found her, though she had been among those who had vanished.  
  
"Nah, I don't believe I have," I replied in a mock British accent. It's part of a long-running joke started when we met Spot's British 'goil'. That was before she knew to mask it. "But then, I hardly ever do, because she's always with that boy a hers."  
  
"Yeah, what was his name?" Michael asked. "Racetrack, right?" Race was the only Manhattan boy I'd ever really talked to. We'd met once when I had attempted to sell out at SheepsHead. I'd left that situation with a black eye, but no hard feelings. I'd invaded his 'spot', I had it comin'.  
  
"I don't remember," I said, the accent gone now. It can only go so long before it gets annoying. "Maybe it's that one called Jack?"  
  
"No," he responded, "Definitely not. He's still mourning the loss of Sarah."  
  
Every one hated Sarah, save for Jack. Didn't know him well, but got to in the following years. He was a Brit. After Spot's girl for a long time now. He knew Blink, leader of the strike. Another biff on the producers, Jack did jack.  
  
We miss Blink, nobody knows exactly what happened. Fell off a cable car, they say it was bloody. The Delancey's were coincidentally on the car, too.  
  
"Now I think of it," Mike said out of the blue after one of those never ending pauses, "There's a bunch of newskids I haven't seen today."  
  
"This coming from the not-so social butterfly?" I inquired. I'm well aware of the fact that Mike may not 'know' a bunch of people, but he knows who everybody is and is always sure of where most of them are.  
  
"Yeah, this here's," he pauses and makes a motion to signify himself, "Is the social fly on the wall. Ever aware of his surroundings, and still knows so few of the people." See what I mean? Funny as any stand up of 'today'. God I miss him.  
  
"Yeah, whatever, fly-boy. We gotta get going, it's getting dangerously close to curfew."  
  
"Sure," he says, standing quickly. "Fly away!" he says in a high- pitched helium voice. I laugh and we leave and head home.  
  
The next day the headlines are better. Disappearances all over the place.  
  
___________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~____________________  
  
Yes, this chapter was short, but time is too. Please, please throw no rotten fruit. I don't have any time for shout outs, cuz I gotta work on my other ff. As I'm hoping you've noticed, I put chapter three in the wrong story. I apologize, and may I point out my hair color? (it's blonde, though I'm considering going brunette). Enough of that. I'm leaving now. Bye. 


	5. Chapter five

Yeah, that's right. Newsies disappearing left and right. Well, sure they dropped out of sight every day, but those are normally the ones nobody cares about. Suddenly the most beloved newsboys weren't at their spots, or any other spot. Thinking of Spot, he disappeared, too. Played an extra. Sort of sucks for him. Now, back to the story. . .  
  
___________________THE PAST____________________  
  
"Wow, great headlines," Mike commented after finishing selling our papes hours early. "Now, what do we do with our free time?"  
  
"I dun no, Ma and Da won't expect us 'til six," I said. Tibby's is out of the question. I don't want to deal with the crowds. "Let's just mindlessly wander. Maybe search for the missing persons."  
  
"I dun no about the searching part. They're gone, and not coming back. Ever."  
  
"How can you say that for sure?" I ask, stopping him so that we can face each other. "Charley is one of those missing people. She's gonna be found. Or come back. Or whatever. They aren't gone for good."  
  
"Keep on dreamin'. You know just as well as I do that those who 'disappear'" he stops to add quotes, "never come back. It's just the way that things happen to be. You're gonna have to live with it."  
  
Normally I am a very accepting and adaptable person. But this is different. I've known Charley since, well, forever. I can't not remember her. And Mike is normally right about this type of stuff. I'd swear the guy's psychic. Won't tell anyone, they'd frown upon it. But there's no denying that he knows things.  
  
"Look, Mike, I know you know things. And right now I know you're wrong." Did I really believe that then? I don't know. I know he was right. I think that he knew what was coming, but he never mentioned it. "Let's just go wander aimlessly for a while."  
  
The remainder of the day was un-eventful. I could write it out in detail, but I wouldn't see the point. Not like documenting all of this is going to change what was done, right?  
  
___________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~____________________  
  
Uberly short, yes. This leads me to wonder, what does uber mean? I mean really, I use the word, yet I know not the meaning of it. I think it's German. And what about Ger-woman? Ah, don't mind me. Shout-outs. I promise a long chappy next time around. Should be soon, though. Woo, go summer vacation.  
  
Seraph- I dun no what's gonna happen next.  
  
Imaginelet- thanks bunches 


End file.
